


The Pie Days of Summer

by blueteak



Category: Hart of Dixie
Genre: Banter, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Scheming, future relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-03 07:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6602854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueteak/pseuds/blueteak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoe needs Wade to help her get a fellowship in New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pie Days of Summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [useyourtelescope (thedreamygirl)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedreamygirl/gifts).



“Congratulations, Wade Kinsella, you’ve just won a free trip to New York City!” 

Wade took a moment to take in Zoe standing at his door in the half light, drenched, muddy, and holding both a hair dryer and something that looked like it wanted to dig spikes into your scalp. 

“Well that’s just great, Hart, but you’re not, forgive me, the picture of the prize patrol,” Wade said, gaze lingering on her very bare and very muddy legs. “And now that I think on it, I haven’t entered any contests since that one after senior year when Kelly challenged us to guess her cup size and if we got it right we got to—“

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Zoe, to her credit, was still holding a prize-giving rictus grin on her face, but it now held more of a hint of murder. Well, that was appropriate if she was taking him to New York. “This is a free trip. One weekend. New York City. Broadway shows, hipster bars, black and white cookies, Junior’s Cheesecake, non-Junior’s cheesecake, music, art, Statue of Liberty, whatever you want.”

Wade leaned forward as though about to shake Zoe’s hand (though that would be difficult, full of hair appliances as they were) and accept the offer. “If I wanted any of those things, I’d have gone and visited already,” he whispered. “But bring back a black and white cookie for me, would you?” he said with a smirk.

Zoe’s rictus grin slipped into a genuine smile before Wade had time to be afraid. She plugged in her hairdryer. The fuse blew.

“Damn it Zoe, now we’re not going to have power for the entire weekend! You know Bob went with the Belles to parade or blowout or dance marathon or whatever thing it is that they’re doing and Lavon doesn’t trust anyone else with the electric ever since we almost fried Burt Reynolds and….” The other shoe dropped. So did the frightening spiky hair thing, as Zoe spread her arms in triumph too quickly and lost her grip on it. 

“Ow! Damn it, Zoe, that’s underhanded and dastardly and—“

“Good payback for making me sing that Belles song every chance you got?”

Wade chose to ignore that. “So why this sudden trip to New York? And why on earth do you want me to go?”

Wade sobered for a second. Maybe Zoe’s mother was sick and she felt shy about asking him to come as a friend because of everything that had happened between them? But as soon as that though entered his mind, it departed. Strange as she was, Zoe would not have pretended he’d won some trip while holding a hair dryer rather than a prize envelope if her goal was to get him to go to New York with her to take care of her sick mother. And he still didn’t know why she was covered in mud.

He leaned back against the doorpost and brought his wounded foot up to rub while attempting to give her his most intimidating inquisitive look. 

He almost lost his balance at her matter-of-fact response. “I need you to pretend to be my fiancée. And a patient I cured of dengue fever with Lyme disease complications.”

“You want me to pretend to be a patient you cured of some disease that sounds like an expensive meal in New York—honestly, ‘Oh, Waiter, I’d like some dengue fever with a side of Lyme disease’--*and* your fiancée? Now, sick I can act, since pretending to be your fiancée is enough to make me feel queasy, but why on earth, and why the mud?”

“Do you think I chose the mud, Wade? Mud is not optional here. It finds you and sticks.”

Wade pointedly looked down at his non-mud covered self. “Leaving aside your disrespect for our fine soil, what’s so urgent in New York?”

“Your ‘fine soil’ is what’s so urgent,” Zoe shot back. “I got a notice about a fellowship opportunity in New York a few months ago. I had decided not to apply for it. Things were…well, not good, exactly, with Brick, but he called me ‘Dr.’ in a non-sarcastic way....but then….then there was the mud, and the heat and the rain and the chance to wear some outfits no one here appreciates and no good pie specials and…”

Wade had been increasingly certain that Zoe was moving. Again. Because of mud, of all things. But the mention of pie specials brought him some hope.

“Pie specials…is this fellowship for good, or is it until they stop with the lemon chess and get back to apple blueberry?”

Zoe gave him a look indicating she knew exactly why he was asking, but wasn’t it sweet that he’d tried to hide it. “Yes. I want to be in New York from lemon chess to peach cobbler and be back in time for apple blueberry. And you, my dengue fever suffering fiancée, are going to help me.”

In his relief that Zoe wasn’t going to be leaving, Wade made a fatal error. “OK, so what is it you need me to do? And wouldn’t it be kind of unethical, you treating me and me being your fiancée?”

“It’s not ideal, but we were in a relationship before this unfortunate and very, very, very rare Lyme/dengue thing happened, and, after all, the local doctor wasn’t equipped to handle it—“

“Your relationship with Brick isn’t going to stay improved he ever hears about this” Wade broke in, amused at just what Brick’s reaction would be. 

“Anyway,” Zoe continued. “I was so heartbroken at this risk to my dear, sweet, fiancée, the man who opened my eyes to the importance of local community and caring more about people than prestige, that I stayed up all night researching a method of curing these diseases in stages, stopping my research only to mop your brow.”

Wade looked impressed by this dedication. “Wait a minute. Did you actually find a good way to treat this thing in stages?”

Zoe nodded, proud.

“How? I’d know if you’d been mopping anyone else’s brow.”

“It was a theoretical person’s brow. The fuse was blown again so I couldn’t watch anything and just decided to research how I’d best cure rare diseases by candlelight."

“As one does,” Wade nodded sagely. 

“Yes. And what were you doing during that time?”

“I think you mean ‘who,’” Wade smirked.

“I really don’t,” Zoe replied. “If you were ‘mopping anyone else's brow,’ I’d know.”

“Anyway,” Wade said, having no desire to talk about his depressing lack of dates, or whatever reason for that lack there could be, “If you’ve actually found a way to do this—and somehow discovered it works—“

Zoe nodded. “It does. Jim Seth actually contracted both and I tried it out.”

“And it works,” Wade continued. Then why do you need some sentimental nonsense story?”

“Because they sent me here to learn ‘people skills.’ I should also have a degree in sentimental nonsense. I demonstrate I’ve got those plus the smarts they already know I have, then they can’t turn me down.”

“And you’ll be back for apple blueberry?” 

“Absolutely,” Zoe confirmed.

“Then I hope you’re ready to take your convalescing fiancée on a tour of the Big Apple he’ll never forget.”  
“Absolutely,” Zoe repeated, and left him with a brief kiss on the lips he knew he wanted repeated for longer. It would be, he hoped, in the city that never sleeps.


End file.
